To Look At You and Never Speak
by Quirky Del
Summary: He knew he shouldn't be watching her.' Laurie's brooding at Jo and Fritz's wedding party. [ONE SHOT]


**Standard Disclaimer – Yadayadayada, I don't own Little Women or any of the characters, savvy?**

**Author's Note – I'm halfway done with the next chapter for "You Who Never Arrived" and I hope to have it posted up here by the end of the week. I'm also still working on my other continuing ones, albeit at a slower pace. I just had this little idea stuck in my head for the past few days so I decided to get it down here...**

**PS – The title is from Michael Hutchence.**

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He knew he shouldn't be watching her.

A soft chestnut lock brushed her shoulder as she laughed at something _he_ had said. Laurie's fingers curled in and out of fists as the professor continued animatedly with his story, Jo now doubled over with mirth. His eyes darkened at the sight of someone other than himself entertaining her. He felt the inner walls of his esophagus tighten and his breathing grew leaden.

Did she know she was doing this to him? Was she deliberately punishing him with every twist of her neck and every kind word addressed to his replacement? There she was only a few feet away from him but they may as well have been years apart. He forced his gaze down to his feet, to the rug, the wall, anywhere but her, but it didn't last long. His eyes betrayed him and sought her out, as they always did. She looked glorious in her gown of white, a mini tapestry of field flowers woven through her hair.

He had often imagined Jo in her wedding dress, lips upturned with the vibrancy and passion that she alone radiated. He knew the wedding party would not be formal, not for Jo – she would insist on a small but comfortable gathering in Orchard House, with love and laughter being the matrimonial highlight rather than pomp and circumstance. He knew the celebration would go into the night, before kisses and farewells would swirl around the house while the family said their last goodbye's before giving her to married life. He knew she would be nervous when everyone had gone and the time came to affirm the love that she had pledged, that she would stall before giving into the love of a husband and wife, then grow confident in the pursuit before long. He knew she would. He knew all of this from very early on in their acquaintance, he had pondered and dreamt on it for so long. What he didn't know was that he wasn't to be the groom.

Amy approached, knocking him out of his musings and whispered a few words in his ear but he didn't hear. It was as if he were spying through a telescope, with Jo in the circular view, the rest of the room and her occupants blackened from sight.

Now the two newlyweds were leaning into each other, conspiring in the way only young couples can in post marital bliss. Laurie felt as though he would have to run outside and retch at any moment. The professor's fingertips were now brushing Jo's knuckles. She looked so proud and – _happy_. Why wasn't he the one to make her happy? The smile on her face was so broad, Laurie thought it looked painful. She turned her face of delight on him and the most curious thing happened – her smile faltered, her eyes turned dull, her high cheeks grew slack. He watched closely as this sudden change came over her, her lids half closed and hooded with sadness. But it didn't last long. The professor called for her attention again and she turned her gaze from him so fast that he wondered if it had really happened at all.

Before long it was time to say goodnight. Everyone was gathered in a circle around the couple, everyone except for Laurie. He stood in the corner of the room, the shadows from the lamps suiting him. The family bid their good nights and good lucks as they milled out one by one, leaving only the Bhaers – oh, how he despised to think of her adopting that name – Marmee and Mr. March, and his wife and himself. He heard Jo say that she was going to grab the pie that Hannah had baked for them from the kitchen, and he watched with a slitted glare as her fingers touched the _old fellow's _arm before she dismissed herself.

He slipped out after her, wanting to say his goodnight to her privately. She didn't notice him at first, while her hands made quick work of wrapping the pie in a cloth for the short journey to Plumfield. She caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and she jumped, startled at his silent presence. Jo's eyes snapped shut before they flitted back to him slowly. There was that look again – that look of utter melancholy _something_. Laurie couldn't quite place his finger on exactly what, but it wasn't an expression befitting of a happy bride. And, once again, it was extinguished just as quickly by another presence in the room. His wife.

Amy wrapped her arms around Jo's neck in a warm embrace, whispering one more round of sisterly sentiments. Laurie gazed at Jo from obsidian eyes, wondering how his plans had turned so mangled, mutilated, and miserable. Amy stepped away, arranging her wrap daintily over her shoulders while she looked at him expectantly to say his own goodbyes so they could return home...only it wasn't really _home_ for him. His real home was in his mind, where he could imagine his life as it should be and with whom it should be. He noticed the two Marches – nay – one Laurence and one newly anointed _Bhaer_ – both watching him with curious eyes. He hung his head and muttered a husky goodnight and choked on his brief congratulations before nodding his head and guiding Amy out the door.

The short trek home was silent and Amy said nothing until they had both dressed for bed and were under the large quilted covers. Even then all she said was a muffled I love you and that was it. She was sound asleep, at least he assumed she was because her breathing sounded even and she had stopped stirring. He, however, couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted with the images of Jo and her _husband _together – doing everything that a married pair do. He felt ill. He pulled his legs in closer to his stomach in an attempt to lesson his pains. He reached up and yanked one of the pillows out from underneath his head, hugging it to his chest and pretending it were Jo until he finally fell asleep.

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**Ok, wow, that dove a bit more depressing than I intended, actually. I like dark Laurie, can't help it. He's so interesting to write, for me anyway, the poor fellow. **

**I would very much love a review and any feedback if you have the time!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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